When I was coming into my https://www.fsunews.com/longform/sports/2015/04/28/drew-macfarlane-sendoff/26507283/freshman year here at FSU, I enrolled early for summer, partially because my grades were borderline for fall requirements and I wanted to have the best chances at getting in and partially because I wanted to leave home, just like every 17-18 year old does when they graduate from high school. Sure, it was hard saying bye to friends and family, but that was only a six-hour move. In all reality, I've always been a drive away from home and everything I know.

After I got into my DeGraff dorm, unloaded all my crap into my room (most of it stuff that my mom saw in those "College Prep Magazines" and I never used, sorry, ma), and finally convinced my mom and grandpa that they didn't have to stay another day, I was virtually alone. I knew no one, not a soul. My roommate was socially braindead and, frankly, a little slow in general (he once tried smuggling a sandwich out of Fresh Foods in his pocket and showered with no shower curtain until I moved in).

For a few days, even the first couple weeks, I was homesick like no other. I would call friends that were coming up for fall just to talk and try and keep sane for the six weeks I was on my own. I would go play roller hockey at the local rink and try to meet some people, which actually led me to meeting one of my closest college friends and former roommate. He lived in the room across from mine in DeGraff, go figure. It was hard at first, but eventually I found my spot socially.

Academically, freshman and the first half of my sophomore year I was dragging. I struggled, and as much as I acted like everything was fine with my mom and grandparents, I knew it would catch up to me, and it did. I remember taking and failing classes and not even batting an eyelash at it. I almost felt invincible, I guess, like there was no cutoff mark for performance. It wasn't until Christmas Break sophomore year that I got a kick to the shorts saying the school was dismissing me for not having a high enough GPA that I realized what I was doing.

I really had thought that I was done at FSU. I remember, as a 20-year old man, bawling on the phone to my mom, thinking everything I had put into getting into school, everything my family had helped me get into Florida State, was all for nothing. I was basically already licking my wounds and cutting my losses by putting my name in at Edison State College back in Fort Myers. That was one of my biggest fears when I moved away to college, not because there was anything wrong with the school or town, but having to explain to people I knew from high school what happened and why I was back. If I hadn't had to drive my closest friend and roommate back to Tallahassee or get my stuff from Ragans I probably wouldn't have taken up the schools offer to repeal the dismissal. Thankfully I did, otherwise I wouldn't be here, a few weeks from walking across that stage.

I remember, as a 20-year old man, bawling on the phone to my mom, thinking everything I had put into getting into school, everything my family had helped me get into Florida State, was all for nothing.

MacFarlane spent several years as part of the FSU Hockey team.(Photo: Thomas McCarthy/Courtesy of Drew MacFarlane)

"Eventually, I found my spot at the FSView. That's what college is all about, finding your spots and sticking with it. I get paid to write about sports and culture, which is still a reality I can't believe exists."

This, by far, is one of the most relatable and appreciated lines I've ever read and I couldn't have put it any better if I had a year to do so. A guy named Brendan Bures wrote that line. Brendan was the dude who hired me while he was the sports editor at the FSView before he went on to become the editor-in-chief the following year. The craziest part of him hiring me? The entire reason I found a spot working for the paper was because I tweeted him out of curiosity about how he got into sports journalism. TWEETED.

I had no business sending in samples of sports writing that I had, in all seriousness, never even drafted up before. I had never even thought of writing any sort of sports related article until he had asked me for some of my work to see if I was worth interviewing for the paper. Truth is, I had no work to show him. I didn't even have a resume put together. I was a kid who came into Florida State as an accounting major but found out that wasn't going to work when he failed the first two math classes he took here, so he switched to history. But, I reached out to Brendan at the right time, when new contributing writers were needed, and I had happened to be at the Orange Bowl, noticing some of the same things he did while he was in the stadium. If I didn't believe in that "Right place, right time" thing, I was pretty much forced to then.

I remember one of the pieces I sent in was when the United States World Junior Hockey team had won gold in Russia, so I decided to write a recap of that game after I woke up way too early to watch a game being played overseas. Before I sent the article to Brendan, I sent a draft to my grandfather, who told me recently that he spent hours looking up a website where I could've copied it. He thought it was plagiarized. Maybe one of the more proud moments of my life to date.

The FSView, in all honesty, salvaged what was remaining of my college career and, in turn, likely changed my life. I've even heard from other writers close to me that feel the same way. It rejuvenated the drive I lost when I knew all was going to hell with my grades. It gave me an extra reason to want to be attentive in class and keep my GPA above a level that made the school want to ship me back to wherever I came from. I wanted to be at school because I wanted to do all the sights and sounds being part of the credentialed media allowed me to do.

Being part of the paper gave me some of the most unreal opportunities a college kid should never experience. Maybe it was somewhere between walking into the press box in AT&T Stadium and seeing Jerry Jones standing there, or visiting breweries in downtown Charlotte the day before the ACC Championship game, or walking over the Hollywood Stars through the streets of LA and roaming the Hollywood Hills, or FaceTiming friends to show them warm ups from the first ever playoff game in the Rose Bowl at field level, or feeling Doak Campbell shake beneath my feet in games like Notre Dame, Miami or Clemson that I realized I may just have the best job in the world. Like Brendan said, we were experiencing these unreal places and writing sports stories and we were getting paid to do it, which doesn't seem fair.

But now, as I'm four summer credits away from graduating and I think about the memories I've made, that's not the part that I'm afraid of losing; they'll be with me forever. I can always look back on the road trip to Dallas for the opening game against OK State, when we left at midnight and trekked westward, nonstop until we reached the Big D, stopping in NOLA on the way back. I'll always have the memories of the hockey trips with my boys, being voted assistant captain by the players, dancing in the locker rooms after wins, and traveling to almost everywhere in the south. It showed us great cities and even greater friendships, brotherhoods, if you will. And I'll never forget the memories Tallahassee has given me, the adventurous nights, the gorgeous days all year long, all those clichés you've heard countless times before.

Instead, what I'm afraid of is experiencing that loneliness again; that feeling of being completely alone in a new city, a reoccurrence of what you felt when you knew all of two people in the entire city of Tallahassee. It's having all your friends you've ever met in the vicinity of five minutes that I'll miss. It's not being able to walk home from bars or parties with your roommates and BSing for all hours of the night over a few drinks that I'm not ready to part with. It's the idea that in order to see the friends you grew with into an actual, real life adult (well, kind of), you have to make day plans or weekend trips in order to do so that irks me. It's the opposite of loneliness that we strive for, the feeling Marina Keegan describes in the title essay of her collection, the inspiration for this whole paragraph (seriously, go read some of her stuff). It's losing the niche that you've worked yourself into and found comfort in.

"Growing up doesn't mean giving up. It means absorbing the wealth of experiences at Florida State and applying them to even better future moments of our lives."

There are an infinite number of doors to open, and the best part about moving on in life is having that excitement to want to open each and every one and appreciate the opportunity it offers.

Whether you're reading this and getting ready to walk across that stage and leave Tallahassee this upcoming weekend, or this august, or in a year, or even four, the point of this wasn't supposed to scare you into leaving. Yeah, packing up your room for the final time in college is saddening and leaves you reminiscent, and the idea of saying goodbye to the people that helped you get you to where you are today flat out sucks, but it's something we'll all have to do. Remain excited for what's to come, like the first time you walked into Potbelly's and saw a Y-bomb being cracked for the first time and your mind split into two. The best years are not concluding when you leave Tallahassee; what's to be found around the next corner will be more exciting than the last. Remember that, it'll keep you from fearing your departure. Take it from me.